'You're Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile'

Quatre folded the letter up, and placed it on the nightstand. He got out of the bed and headed to the bathroom. It wasn't everyday that his lover took control, and he wanted to look his best. He took extra long in the shower, making sure to use scented shampoo, and Trowa's favorite soap. He got out and dried his hair, until it fell over his eyes. Just the way the green eyed boy liked.


Then he proceeded to the wardrobe to find just what to wear. When he opened it, he was amazed to see a large garment bag hanging in front.


"Now, that wasn't there when I went to sleep last night." The blonde boy pulled it out and set it on the bed. He opened it fully, and laughed contentedly at the contents. "Trowa, you thought of everything."


Inside was a short, blood red dress. It had a white collar, cuffs, and stripe around the middle. All three were trimmed in black. To go with it were little white panties, with a simple ruffle on the backside, white socks, and of course patent leather Mary Jane's. But when he lifted the dress up he saw something underneath it. It was a wig. A very orange, very curly, short haired wig.


"Mmmm," he licked his lips, "a surprise this thoughtful surely deserves a great reward." His eyes lit up at the ideas for compensation. He all but danced into the bathroom to change.


It took him longer than he thought it would. It had been hard to get the wig on without any of his blonde locks sticking out. But once he was done he fit the part perfectly. Quatre did a pirouette in front of the mirror, checking to make sure that everything was in place. Confident it was, he skipped out of the bathroom.


He exited the room and proceeded to hop friskily down the hallway. He cavorted from room to room in search of his mischievous lover.


It didn't take long to find him. Trowa had taken residence in the house's main library. He was sitting in a wingback chair reading the morning paper, business section of course. He too was dressed in character. Quatre was practically drooling at the picture he made. Trowa was clad in a black tuxedo. With matching black cummerbund, and bowtie. He had on the whitest shirt and shiny, black dress shoes. But that wasn't what made the outfit. No, it was the bald wig he was wearing.


Somehow the normally banged pilot had fit all of his brown hair under it. Not a stray piece showed, and it looked remarkably realistic.


At Quatre's bouncy entrance he looked up. "Ah, Annie. Just the girl I was looking for," he said in a deep booming voice.


Quatre didn't know how he got his voice like that, but it sent shivers up his spine. "Yes, Daddy Warbucks? I heard you wanted to see me?"


Trowa sat the paper down on the table between his chair and the other, and motioned for Quatre to come closer. He waved to the seat across the table. Quatre walked over and sat down opposite him, crossing his legs demurely. Trowa took all this in, and he looked Quatre up and down. Quatre blushed under his scrutiny. Trowa continued to leer at him hungrily.


Finally he broke the silence. "Annie, we need to talk."


Quatre nodded, his eyes wide. Damn, Trowa was good at this.


"Well," he continued, "I've really enjoyed having you here--"


"Oh, Daddy! Me too!"


"Wait," he scolded, "I'm not done. You've been like a ray of sunshine in this gloomy old house. But I think maybe it's time for you to return to the orphanage."


Quatre's eyes broadened even more, and became dewy with tears. He jumped up and ran to stand in front of Trowa. "Why Daddy? What did I do wrong? I'm sorry! Please don't send me back! Ms. Hannigan will beat me for sure." With that he tried to embrace Trowa, but the other boy pushed him back.


"It's nothing you've done, and it's not you. It's just that I've always wanted a boy."


Quatre sunk to knees, and started sobbing. "But Daddy Warbucks, I love you. You adopted me."


"I know Annie. But I'm sure some other nice family will want you."


Quatre grabbed onto Trowa's leg. "No! I don't want another family! I want you! I can make you happy."


"Really?" Trowa questioned, his voice heavy with desire.


Quatre looked up at him with his tearstained face. "Yes, Daddy Warbucks let me show you."


Without waiting for an answer, Quatre stood and helped Trowa remove his jacket. It was thrown to the floor. Next he slowly untied the green eyed boy's bowtie, with his teeth. Then he pulled it off and it hit the floor too. Then he bent over Trowa and reached behind him, unfastening the cummerbund. It met its mates on the carpet. Again the blonde lowered himself to his kneeling position.  He untied the other boy's shoes and slid them off. Afterwards the socks.


Now all Trowa was wearing only his dress shirt and slacks. Quatre rose up a little and nestled his face on Trowa's leg, right above the knee. His hand snaked out to play with the banged pilot's zipper.


"See Daddy Warbucks. I can make you happy."


"Yes, Annie. But anybody could undress me. No, I'm afraid it's back to the orphanage." Trowa had to struggle to keep talking. Having Quatre's face that close to his groin was having an obvious effect on him.


"Wait! I can do more."


"I'm a man of action Annie. You'd better show me."


Quatre shifted his head, and started kissing Trowa's thighs through the fabric of his slacks. The hand on the zipper moved to the button and deftly unfastened it. Then the zipper was pulled down with painfully slow movements. Quatre had been working his way up Trowa's inner leg and now his face was square between his legs. His lips skimmed Trowa's fabric covered arousal. Trowa's hands were clamped onto his shoulders.


Quatre looked up at him coyly. "Do you like this Daddy Warbucks?"


Trowa nodded his head vigorously. Quatre grabbed either side of pants and began to pull. Trowa lifted his hips, and the blonde slid the slacks and boxers to his knees. Then he shifted, and with one swift movement yanked them both off. Quatre resumed his spot, and began to lick his way up Trowa's thigh, this time without the hindrance of clothing. The other thigh was being massaged by his agile fingers. He once again reached the juncture at Trowa's thighs, only this time he was confronted with the boy's swollen, dripping cock.


His tongue glided out, and ever so slightly swiped the tip. Trowa thrust upwards, dying for more. That fleeting touch had rocked him to the core, and he quaked with anticipation. Quatre hesitated, he loved to see his restrained lover squirm. Trowa's hands, however were none too subtly guiding him back. Quatre's head descended over Trowa's erection, and he drew only the tip of it into his mouth. He let his silken, crimson tongue massage it. He ran it all over, rubbing the smoothness against Trowa's hardness.


The green eyed boy was trembling. His felt heat radiating throughout his body. Trowa propelled himself up, wanting, no needing, to be engulfed by that teasing wetness. But Quatre was having none of that. With firm hands he held Trowa's hips down, while continuing to drive him wild with his deliberate suckling. The tall boy thought he'd go mad with the sensations. His blood was boiling, and his skin was aflame. Then Quatre freed his hips, and he arched his back, embedding his cock in Quatre's pliant mouth.


Trowa cried out as the blonde's unyielding tongue worked its magic. The fire was building, it felt like any minute he'd explode like a raging volcano. Quatre continued to suck, as he cupped Trowa's balls and traced circles on them with his thumb. Trowa's skin was tingling, it was like molten lava was flowing through him. He was skimming the edge and any minute he'd tumble over. Tremors were shaking his thin frame. Then Quatre began to hum "Tomorrow," and Trowa surrendered. The torrid burning in him burst forth, and he popped like a firecracker. With a feverish cry he came, spilling himself into Quatre's waiting mouth.


Quatre drank it all hungrily. After a short time he let Trowa slide leisurely from his mouth. He looked up at his lover, pleased to see his eyes were blurry with pleasure. Trowa just sat there as the aftershocks caused him to melt into little more than a puddle of white-hot waves. Every now and then his body would quiver as another one hit him. Quatre rested his head on Trowa's knee, and waited for him to come back.


When Trowa finally had the will to move he looked down at his lively love. He ran his hand through the orange wig, letting the other boy know he had recovered.


Quatre understood his motions, and kissed his knee. "Well, Daddy Warbucks? Did I make you happy?"


"Yes, Annie, you did," he said a still wheezing some, "but anybody could do the same. And a boy has one thing that you can never possess."


Quatre eyes were downcast. "So, you'll never be satisfied until you have a boy?"


"I'm afraid not."


"Well, then Daddy Warbucks, there's something I have to tell you."


"Yes?"


"Hold on. You're a man of action, I'd better show you."


With that Quatre stood. He walked a few steps away from Trowa, then turned to face him. His hands nabbed the hem of his dress. He hoisted it up at a snail-like pace until ultimately it was clumped around his middle. Doing so unconcealed his rigid cock, which the paper thin panties could hardly withhold. Seeing Quatre flaunt himself like that was making Trowa grow hard again. He rose from the chair and strolled over to the other boy. He walked fully around him, scrutinizing every delicious inch.


"Well, Annie, it seems you've been keeping something from me. It's bad for little girls, a-hem, I mean little boys to lie. Maybe I should punish you so you won't do it again"


Quatre flushed and looked down.


"But I think I'd rather fuck you. What do you think?"


"I don't know Daddy Warbucks, I've never..."


"I guess I could always send you back to Ms. Hannigan..."


Quatre looked up, fear in his blue-green eyes. "No, Daddy Warbucks! Not that. It's just that I've never done anything like that."


"Well, Annie, let me teach you."


"I'm.. I'm scared," Quatre whispered.


"Don't worry, I'll be gentle."


Trowa then enfolded Quatre into an embrace. He leaned over and touched his lips to the blonde's. It was scarcely a kiss, merely a fleeting contact. But all the things it promised were enough to set Quatre ablaze from the ends of his hair, to the tips of his toes. Then Trowa kissed him again, harder this time. He prolonged it, reluctant to release those lenient lips. When he moved back, Trowa was thrilled to see Quatre's eyes were already clouded with passion. And the green eyed boy was only getting started.


He bent back over to reclaim that mouth, on this occasion though he let his tongue sneak out and glide over Quatre's lower lip. The Arabian opened his mouth in a silent moan. Trowa took that opportunity to slip his tongue in. He began his quest of the blonde's mouth, leaving no part unexplored. At the same time Quatre was doing his own investigation of Trowa's mouth. His tongue examining every inch of the moist sanctuary. Then he began to suck Trowa's tongue, making soft, slurping noises as he toyed with it. He enjoyed the way the fleshiness stimulated his over sensitive lips.


Quatre wrapped his arms around Trowa's neck, drawing him closer. And their tongues meet again, rubbing forcefully against one another. Trowa tightened his grip, as if trying to merge into the blonde boy. Their tongues continued to dance about eachother, until they were forced to break the kiss for lack of air. The two stared at eachother for mere seconds before resuming the connection. Their mouths met with crushing intensity, and their tongues renewed the battle. Both supple tongues caressing the other, that friction causing jolts of aphrodisia to rush through their bodies.


That relentless sponginess chafing his tongue was causing Quatre's head to spin. He felt his skin start to tingle as his blood heated. He sucked fiercely, wanting to pull all of Trowa in through his mouth.  At the same time his tongue was assaulting Quatre's, Trowa's hand snaked between their bodies. He fondled Quatre's flimsily sheathed erection. Quatre threw his head back and groaned. Trowa removed his hand, but took that chance to move his onslaught to the blonde's neck. He began to lick the entire surface, occasionally sinking his teeth in. Every time his teeth made contact Quatre would whimper.


It was becoming too much for the Arabian. His senses were at the breaking point. Every inch of flesh was alive, and sizzling. It felt like his insides were made of jelly. His world revolved around the scorching waves flowing from his pelvis. They filled every part of his body, melting his interior. Then Trowa forced one of his legs between Quatre's. He unzipped the dress and slid if off Quatre's shoulders. He began to run his upper leg back and forth across the blonde's erect cock. The abrasion sent shocks through Quatre's body. He rocked forward, rubbing eagerly against that pestering limb.


He was approaching the threshold. His muscles were strained to the max. White-hot fire was shooting throughout him. Then Trowa bit down assertively on his shoulder, and ecstasy claimed him. Quatre fell into oblivion, as rivers of fire flooded his senses. His eyes became foggy with scalding desire.  He lost all conscious reasoning as he was consumed by sweltering gratification. With a cry of pure lust he came, soaking his panties, and dampening Trowa's leg beneath him. Quatre went slack in the tall pilot's arms, his legs too wobbly to support him.


Trowa held him up, as Quatre trembled in his arms. Wave after wave of burning satisfaction crashed over Quatre threatening to drown him. Trowa picked him up and carried him to the nearby table. He tossed the newspaper to the ground and placed his lover on its top. The green eyed boy softly kissed his neck as his small frame quivered. Quatre's eyes finally took focus as his orgasm began to recede.


Trowa freed Quatre's arms from the dress, but he didn't take it off. He left the red garment bunched around Quatre's stomach. He did, however, remove the wet panties, discarding them on the floor.


Trowa began to dispose of his only remaining clothes, his shirt, but Quatre stopped him.


"No, Daddy Warbucks, keep it on," he purred.


"Whatever you say Annie."


"Mmmm," Quatre sighed, "I think I'm gonna like it here."


"Do I feel a song coming on?"


"If you'd like Daddy Warbucks," Quatre said impishly.


Trowa spread Quatre's legs and positioned himself between them. As Quatre cleared his throat, Trowa began to trace a path down his chest with his tongue. He licked around the blonde's nipples then bathed them with his tongue until they glistened. Quatre groaned, and arched toward that harassing mouth.


Trowa stopped. "I don't hear singing," he admonished.


Quatre whined in defeat, but complied. "I think I'm gonna like it here. Used to room, in a tomb, where I'd sit and freeze. Get me now, holy cow! Could someone pinch me please?"


Trowa obeyed, taking one rosy nub into his fingers and squeezing. Quatre was momentarily stunned by the electricity that spread from that spot. Consequently he stopped in mid verse.


"Bad girl, keep going," Trowa rebuked as his finger was replaced by his mouth. He gently bit down on that nub, causing Quatre to gasp. Trowa's fingers were pinching his other nipple, and both were rock hard.


Quatre was already super sensitive from before, so now he was breathless as Trowa played with his stiff buds.  Consequently, it took him a minute to find his voice. "Together at last! Together forever! We're tying a knot, they never can sever. I don't need sunshine now to turn my sky to blue. I don't need anything but you! You've wrapped me around, that cute little finger. You've made life a song! You've made me the singer! And what's that bathtub tune you always Bu-Bu-Boo? Bu-Bu-Bu-Bu-Bu-Bu-but you!"


Thank God the last word were nonsense rambling, because when Trowa's hand started to knead his thigh, words were lost to Quatre. He wrapped his hands in Trowa's shirt trying to pull him down. Trowa stopped his caressing and unhooked Quatre's fingers. Quatre gave him his Zero system 'I'll kill you' glare, but it quickly dissolved into the 'fuck me now, on the table' look as Trowa lowered his head and commenced nibbling his inner thigh.


"Keep going," he commanded from between his legs.


Quatre was shaking, but he forced himself to continue, doing his best to ignore the sparks running up his leg. And his cock which was rising between them. "I-O-D-E-N-T. Iodent. Hey, Hobo Man, Hey Dapper Dan, you've both got your style, but brother You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile! Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly, They stand out a mile, but brother You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile! I-O-D-E-N-T! Doo doodle-oo doo Doo doodle-oo doo Doo doo doo doo Doo doo doo."


Once again Quatre gave thanks for the gibberish, because at that instant Trowa had taken his firm cock into his mouth. And at the first touch of that hot, wet opening all rational thought, and catchy song lyrics, had flown out the window. The tall pilot began swirling his tongue around Quatre's aching arousal, massaging it's entirety. Then he pulled back and plunged down. While he had been tasting Quatre's succulent thigh earlier, Trowa had used the time to coat his fingers with the lube he had retrieved from the floor. The brunette worked a slick finger into Quatre, who shifted a bit in discomfort. He pushed it in fully, and wiggled it around until he found the spot he was looking for.


Quatre arched up, as his world exploded. Trowa had brushed his magic button. The green eyed boy struck that button over and over, as his mouth lavished Quatre's cock. Quatre began keening loudly, but he didn't want to displease his lover by stopping so he resumed singing, or rather shouting the words. "So, Senator, So janitor, so long for a while remember You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile! You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile! Who cares what they're wearing, on Main Street or Saville Row? It's what you wear from ear to ear! And not from head to toe. That ma-haa-haa-ters!"

* * *

Duo shook his head as he walked past the library. Man, those hentais were at it again. Quatre looked so angelic, and Trowa looked so unsociable, but get them into a room together and they went at it like rabid dogs. You'd never tell by the looks of them, but they were sex addicts. And freaky ones at that.


His musings were interrupted as a handcuff was snapped to his wrist. "What the..."


He looked over to see Heero Yuy, dressed as Tigger, yes Tigger, and holding the other end of those manacles. He was dragged off to their bedroom as strains of You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile emitted from the library.

* * *

Quatre had to stop, he was so overwhelmed with need he couldn't choke out the words. Trowa continued to prepare him, adding another finger, while drenching his cock with that wicked mouth. The Arabian was intoxicated with the euphoria racing through him. He knew he was on the edge again. All his nerves were ready to burst. As the feverous heat once again took control of him he succumbed to it. Quatre let the burning tide carry him, sure that any second he'd erupt.


Trowa knew it to, so at the last second, right before Quatre toppled into pure rapture, he relinquished his cock and removed his fingers. Quatre howled with disappointment at being denied release. Trowa just smiled roguishly, lubed his aching arousal, and lifted the blonde's legs to his shoulders. He touched the tip of his erect cock to Quatre's opening, but didn't enter. Instead he brushed over the rosebud, plaguing Quatre.


"What are you waiting for Daddy Warbucks? Tomorrow?!"


Trowa grinned mirthfully. Quatre was so adorable when he was frustrated. He submitted to his impatient lover and leisurely propelled his cock into Quatre's willing tightness. The blonde's eyes widened at the slight pain, but he bit his lip against it. Quatre frantically clawed at him, wanting to pull him closer. He yanked Trowa down, and their mouths engaged in a brutal kiss. Trowa thrust in slowly, until he was fully entrenched in Quatre's throbbing heat. And then the taller boy stalled, and let his lover adapt to him.


He reached down and pinched Quatre's hardened nipples, earning a gasp of surprise. When he felt the blonde loosen some he pulled out a little then surged back in. Quatre meanwhile was soaring on the ultimate sexual high. The pain of Trowa's penetration had subsided, and in it's wake had left fulfillment. He was riding this erotic wave of sex. It was the most incredible feeling to be impaled on Trowa. It was pure perfection as Trowa slid in and out of him.  Every aspect of his being was focused on that one part of him. And all that mattered was the heat spreading through him.


Quatre's tongue thrust into Trowa's mouth, mimicking Trowa's motions. The fires were burning their hottest as they consumed his body. The Arabian arched his back meeting those drives with his hips, anxious to have the green eyed boy deeper in him. He was drunk on the lascivious sensations that were devouring him. The ardor flowed through his veins, making his skin slick with perspiration.


Trowa was on that same wave. Quatre's passage was stroking him ceaselessly. The blonde's tight walls were rubbing every inch of his extended length, and it was pure bliss. His cock had been pulsing with need, but once he was buried in Quatre the ache turned to enjoyment. And then he encountered Quatre's sweet spot again making the blonde cry out with this mewling sound. The friction growing between to the two of them threatened to explode at any time.


Quatre thought he'd died when Trowa hit his button. It was like fireworks were going off before his eyes. He began to thrash his head back and forth across the table. He clung to Trowa, the only steady thing in his undulating world. And as the feverous tempo heightened between them, their movements became more frantic. Trowa was no longer holding back, he was hammering into Quatre's passage. Harder and harder, relishing the blaze that was absorbing him.


Quatre didn't mind the roughness, he was equaling it in fact. He arched up, slamming his hips into Trowa, wantonly trying to force the boy deeper. All the while their climaxes were mounting steadily. Pleasure was devouring their senses, and flaming heat was expanding inside them. Trowa reached between them to grab Quatre's swollen cock. He began to pump it rapidly, knowing they were both on the fringe of orgasm. As the exhilaration rose, Trowa thrust in deeper, and stroked Quatre faster.


The combination of Trowa groping him, and simultaneously piercing him overwhelmed Quatre. He reached the pinnacle, and toppled over. With a muffled cry he yielded to the red-hot sensations, and let them swallow his senses. He shot his seed all over Trowa's hand, and shirt. Then he went lax, convulsing as the release tore through his body. Hearing Quatre scream as he came made Trowa feel like his cock would burst. But it was when the blonde's walls clinched down on his sensitive cock, that he reach his apex.


He not only reached it, he flew up and over it. The fire pitched him over the edge, and he readily went. The blistering heat engrossed him, and he emptied himself deep within Quatre. Then he went slack and crumpled on top of the blonde. The twosome laid there, neither moving, save for a euphoric twitch every so often. Both thrilling in the amazing peak they had just plunged from. And both delighting in the way their skin felt ablaze, and their stomachs were doing little flips.


Trowa let Quatre's legs down from their jackknifed position, and he slowly withdrew from Quatre's body. Then he covered the blonde with himself. They snuggled like that for a while, until their breathing slowed down, and their vision clarified. After they had recuperated some Trowa pulled Quatre into his arms, and lifted him to a sitting position. He bent down and unfastened his shoes, and took off his socks. He helped the still shaky boy to stand.  Quatre's red dress slithered down his frame, and he stepped out of it.


Trowa gathered him up again and settled into a chair, with Quatre on his lap. He pulled off Quatre's wig, and then his own. The banged pilot ran his hand through his lover's golden locks, which were plastered to his head. Quatre sighed and snuggled closer, enjoying Trowa playing with his hair. Once Trowa was satisfied with the condition of Quatre's hair, he wrapped his arms around him and squeezed. Quatre exhaled quietly, as sleep was swiftly conquering him.


Trowa kissed his forehead, then shook him lightly. "Quatre don't fall asleep here. C'mon put on my pants and we'll go to our room."


Quatre mumbled something muddled, but he got up and slipped on the pants. The blonde looked like he'd fall asleep standing up. Trowa decided they could clean up later, so he scooped his lover up into his arms and carried him to their bedroom. He set Quatre down, while he pulled back the blankets. Then he helped him step out of the pants.


Quatre all but fell into he bed, where he curled up happily. Trowa smiled down on him as he tossed of his soiled shirt, and settled in next to him. He thought Quatre had gone to sleep, so he was surprised when the blonde cuddled up to him. Quatre threw and arm over him, and placed his head on his chest.


And as slumber overcame him, he whispered subduedly, "I love you, Trowa."


And with that sleep claimed him. Trowa traced Quatre's face with his fingers. It still amazed him that one so heavenly looking could be so outrageously naughty. Not that he was complaining.


"I love you, too my little devil in disguise. Although, you'll always be *my* angel."


Then, he too surrendered to the dream world. The pair slept peacefully, fully satisfied, and enveloped in eachother's arms.


Neither heard the cry of, "Oh, P-P-Pooh!" that issued from down the hall.


~~~~~


the end.